Saturday, February 13, 2010

Processor Woes. :-(

 Sometimes it kills me that I am not able to say want I actually want to say. My head, which is my inbuilt processor, is probably processing a lot of requests concurrently, and is inherently slow. So my verbal communication is often delayed and quick responses if any are not logical. And the situations that I get myself into are very complicated even for my processor to interpret, and it takes some time even when I get to see the logical side of it. But some daily life scenarios take a higher priority with my processor. For example, I just met one lady in my project and she introduced herself as ‘Silky’. The very second I found myself laughing at her. At the same time, I also thanked God that my parents did not name me like that…cos if they did, it would have been embarrassingly contradictory. Anyways, the processor works diligently when there is something to laugh. But when there is something serious to think, I would be left wondering whether the existence of a processor is just a myth.




Today, I was crossing one of the busiest roads in Bangalore… the one near Dairy Circle.

I crossed half way through (with some two wheelers wondering aloud whether the road belonged to my Dad… hmm…I wish it was) and waited in the separator awaiting the police to interfere. Another girl was standing near me, wearing an ID card similar to mine, and a shawl covering her forehead and cheeks. Two small eyes were partially visible. In order to cross Bangalore roads and end up alive at the other end, two eyes are not sufficient. This wonder woman was covering half her eyes also. The police came, stopped the vehicles and signaled us to cross to the other half of the road. At the very instant, the wonder woman took out an umbrella and pointed it near me. The next second, it opened in my stomach, the pointed tip of which had now touched my intestines. I yelled with pain, but the wonder woman swooshed past, and reached the other side.
My processor rushed to my stomach and was busy consoling it, that any communication to the verbal end was terminated.
Back in my workstation, I am painfully regretting, in regular intervals, why I hadn’t given her a piece of my mind.

5 minutes:

I should have said, ‘Don’t you have eyes!!!’

30 minutes:

I should have said, ‘ What in God’s name are u doing??’

2 hours:

I should have simply taken the umbrella and thrown it on the road.

4 hours:

I should have taken that umbrella and given her a good thrashing.

6 hours:

I should have killed her.

Back home:

*Wailing* Mummy, one girl opened her umbrella into my stomach..sob sob..and it is paining u know..

Mummy: What were you doing when she took out the umbrella? You should have moved and given some space!

*Wailing harder* I know…I know… Don’t talk to me *SLAM*

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